


Litost

by Dufourae85



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dufourae85/pseuds/Dufourae85
Summary: I'm currently attempting to write a fic inspired by the song Litost by The X Ambassadors. I'm not the best at writing but I can't stop thinking about this. It's not exactly what I had in mind but like I said, I'm a total noob so...be gentle but honest in your critiques!Thanks!





	1. Chapter 1

I am Harry Potter. Just Harry. Not the Chosen One. Not The Boy Who Lived. I'm not even an Auror. Honestly, I'm not much of anything. I have nothing to offer. I've already given everything I could possibly give to save the entire world at seventeen fucking years old. I'm lost. We all are. The war took everything from us, but each other. 

That's why I'm here again. Standing at your door in the middle of the night and vaguely wondering if Ron's in there, with you. Sharing your bed, just like we had to not so long ago, huddled in a freezing tent and terrified that the darkness would swallow us whole at any moment. I'm still haunted by that feeling. Every. Second. That's why I woke shaking and sobbing on the floor in my bedroom closet, again. I was searching for you. Your warmth. My subconscious regressed to the only safe place I knew when shit got crazy at the Dursleys, my cupboard.

Even now, the enormity of the night sky around me as I stand on your porch overwhelms me and I'm terrified. There's something thick in my throat and a tightness in my chest making breathing impossible. An unknown impending doom is looming in a corner of my mind, growing larger and larger by the second. I know I should stay away, leave you alone for a while. It's what you asked the last time I came looking for comfort...and the time before that. But tonight I can't claw my way out alone, not this time. I need you so much. So, I slowly lift my shaking fist and gently knock...

It takes a hundred years for a soft glow to illuminate the frosted window of your front door. The wards lift, the deadbolt slides free and finally your standing in front of me and the relief I feel at the sight of your beautiful face makes my knees crumble and suddenly I'm at your feet pawing at your robe in my despair. 

"Hermione...please". I choke out. Help me. Make the pain go away. An eternity passes before I feel your shaking fingers in my hair and you whisper "Oh, Harry".

Your touch is all I need to lose the grip on my fragile self control. I sob into your thighs while the fear hits me full force and the demons of my anxiety attack finally consume me.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm sitting on your couch. I don't quite remember how I got from your door to here but I'm feeling better, more stable. You're in the chair across from me, wearing an expression I hate: concern but with a subtle layer of annoyance. The grandfather clock is ticking in the hallway, driving me mad. You haven't even offered me tea. 

"What's wrong Harry? Was it another nightmare?" Your voice is soft enough but again with the undertone of impatient condescension.

"You have them too Hermione." It comes out through my teeth and harsher than intended, but now that the demons have receded I can't help but feel angry. Angry that you push me away to protect yourself. Am I still your hero? 

"Yes, I know. I've been seeing a mind healer about them though, and it's been helping loads, as I've suggested you should do." A beat goes by before you ask what my nightmare was about. My fists clench and my teeth grind. You know damn well what I dream about but you make me talk about them anyway since it's so cathartic for you with your 'mind healer'. I hate that it does helps. 

"Its the same as always. Voldemort. Everyone dying, and I can't save them...you dying...and I can't-" My throat is swollen again as I relive the vivid images of if you being ripped apart by Greyback, or falling into a pit of never ending blackness after you're hit with an Avada. You reach across the chasm between us and touch my knee. I feel safer.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I wish I knew how to help."

"You know what helps." I say quietly to the carpet. I can't look at your tired eyes without feeling shame. You were my best friend, and my best mate's girl and I've perverted that dynamic. But I'm selfish. Your touch is gone from my knee and I'm cold again. That damn clock is irritating the hell out if my raw mind. Tick, tick, tick.

"Harry.." Your annoyance is replaced with a face and tone you'd use for a lost child. I'm equally bitter and comforted by it. After all, I'm here because I felt lost, right? Even though I knew I'd be rejected. Again.

"Ron and I...-"

"It's complicated" I finish for you.

Almost immediately after the war you and Ron travelled to Australia with the high hope of restoring your parents memories, but you came home a permanent orphan, like me, and refused to speak about it, nor whatever happened between you and Ron on that trip that drastically shifted your relationship. That excuse didn't stop you from welcoming me into your bed the first time I came to you convinced I'd been cursed and was dying. Turns out I was just having my first anxiety attack and sinking into your warm, heavenly body was the only relief.

A few awkward minutes go by before you sigh heavily and stand, probably so you can chuck me out but I'm up almost as quickly and get into your space. You don't back away, but i can see the uncertainty in your eyes so closer mine and rest my forehead on yours and breathe in your shaking breaths.

"Hermione..." I whisper into your quietly panting mouth and sink my fingers into your loose bun, gently at first but my need for you overwhelms me and I suddenly pull your head back so I can growl into your neck "I need you..". You fist my shirt and moan while wrapping a leg around my hip.

"Harry!" I love hearing you cry out my name so I plead "Please!" one more time and barely keep the desperation from my voice. You pull me in closer and break free of my grip on your hair to kiss me with a hunger to match my own. 

I have your robe and nightdress off in seconds and we fall to the floor right where we were standing. Now your hands grip my hair as I bury my face between your thighs until your a quivering mess beneath me. I lift your legs over my shoulders and once again sink into your warm folds and pound all my anger and resentment and pain into you. It's not long before we're both crying out our pleasure and I collapse into your arms, and cry.

I knew you needed me too. Needed me to heal you in the only way we know how. With our passion and our bodies and the promise of an escape from all the pain, for but a few precious moments, only to have it all come crashing back down once we are done with each other. I must be insane to keep coming back for this demented idea of love. This isn't love, it's an addiction.

"Shhh, it's alright Harry." You say soothingly and stroke my sweat soaked hair and by the quiver in your voice you've been crying too. "Let's get to bed, okay? C'mon". You push against my shoulders and I climb up on shaking legs before you take my hand and lead me to your bedroom where I fall asleep holding you close. I sleep without dreaming for the first time in months.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, let me know what you think! This is in it's very early stages and won't be very long as it's supposed to be mostly following song lyrics but with a little more fleshed out storyline. It's going to be darker and more depressing so sorry if that's not your thing.


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